


You Really Put the 'Cock' in Christmas... Wait, What?

by ronans



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Fluff, Gallagher Christmas Party, Lots... of alcohol, M/M, One Shot, too many cock puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2739425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never <em>ever</em> let Ian do the Christmas party snack shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Really Put the 'Cock' in Christmas... Wait, What?

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a bottle of Cockburn's in my kitchen and c'mon. I had to.  
> Thank you to whereareyoucas for the carrot line, your work is greatly appreciated  
> 

‘So I know you said to use the money for snacks and-‘

‘Woah, hold up, man, I’m not even in the door.’ Which is true; Mickey’s still clothed in his snow covered winter coat and boots. Ian pauses just long enough for Mickey to get one boot off before he’s off again.

‘I didn’t get snacks _exactly_ -‘

‘Wait, what? What the fuck am I supposed to say to Fiona? She told us- Can you _not_ wear that fucking thing, please?’ Mickey yanks the Santa hat off Ian’s head and kicks off his other shoe at the same time.

‘Where’s your Christmas cheer?’ Ian whines, trailing after Mickey as he walks further into the Milkovich house.

‘Up my ass, along with the carrot Carl left out for Rudolph.’

‘Jesus,’ Ian mutters. He shakes his head and grabs Mickey’s elbow before he can disappear into his room to get ready. ‘Don’t you wanna know what I spent the money on?’

‘Yes, I would _love_ to know what the produce of you and my wife whoring yourselves out to grandpas was spent on.’

‘Well… Ta dah!’ Ian flings his arms exaggeratedly in the direction of the dining table. Mickey can’t believe he hadn’t noticed it first thing.

‘What… the fuck?’ Mickey mumbles, slowly approaching the table to inspect the small mountain of alcohol bottles. ‘Cockburn’s, Cockfosters, Black Cock, _Big_ Black Cock, Fighting Cock… Ian, are you fucking kidding me?!’

‘What?’ Ian asks almost innocently. ‘Oh, I also found a recipe for a cocktail called Cock Sucking Cowboy. The internet is a wonderful place.’

‘Oh my fucking god, Ian. I gotta recipe for you; it’s called Readheaded Slut.’

Ian’s mouth drops open but it looks kind of weird because he’s still smiling. ‘No way is that an actual thing.’

‘You’d be surprised, now can we stop talking about cocks and start talking about how the fuck we’re gonna bring ninety cases of this shit to a child friendly Christmas party?’

Ian pouts slightly and then turns around to face the pile of bottles he’d set up on the Milkovich dining table. ‘Uhm… Well, I mean, it’s not like they haven’t seen it before, right?’

‘Not really what I’m worried about. How the fuck are they gonna eat? We were strictly on snacks.’

Ian waves Mickey’s concerns away with a vague gesture. ‘I’m sure she’ll understand. There could be a dumpster diving competition later on; something fun for the kids which _also_ doubles up as a great meal.’

‘Dumpster diving. Really. Fuck, Ian, you’re making the kids go through garbage for their Christmas meal?’

‘What? I didn’t think you gave a shit about Christmas…’ Ian mumbles smugly, grabbing Mickey’s hand. Mickey rolls his eyes and picks up the first bottle his fingers come into contact with. Ian smirks as Mickey unscrews the cap and takes a large gulp. Evidently, that wasn’t the best idea, because immediately he begins to splutter.

‘ _Poison_.’

Ian frowns in surprise. ‘Mickey Milkovich; poisoned by cock.’

Mickey rolls his eyes up to stare at the ceiling. ‘You’re not funny.’

The frown becomes a grin and Ian leans in to kiss Mickey, pulling away after a moment to lick his lips. ‘Oh, man, that _is_ bad,’ he says, squinting.

‘Did you seriously just kiss me to taste the alcohol?’

Ian shrugs and nods. ‘Uh huh.’

Mickey shakes his head and replaces the cap on the bottle. ‘Can’t believe you blew the budget on this shit.’

‘I could blow _you_ instead to take your mind off the impending doom that is my sister’s rage?’

After a few seconds of pondering the, admittedly cheesy, proposition, Mickey nods and strides off to his room, almost bumping into Mandy.

‘Hey- Oh fuck no! Don’t you dare start something up, we’ve gotta leave in like ten minutes!’ Mandy groans as her brother’s door is shut in her face. She waits for a few seconds until the sound of a zip opening forces her to move away, scrunching her nose in distaste. ‘Assholes. You better be ready or I’m leaving without you!’

*

‘You didn’t even get changed, you look a fucking mess,’ Mandy complains, pinching her brother in the side and then stealing Ian’s Christmas hat off him. Ian really didn’t understand the Milkovich aversion to Santa hats.

Mickey raises his eyebrows and shoves Mandy back, almost sending her flying into the road. ‘Tell me what you really think, bitch.’

‘I’m just saying, you could’a put some effort in. From what I heard half the neighbourhood’s going to be there.’

‘All the more reason to actively try to look like shit,’ Mickey justifies, switching the (really fucking heavy) bag of alcohol to his other hand and flexing the other one.

‘You look great, Mandy,’ Ian tells her. She really does; she’d put on a sparkly red dress - that most likely still had the tags on – underneath her mandatory thick winter coat.

Ian isn’t afraid to admit he nearly screams when the bag he’s holding starts to split. Thankfully, he manages to hoist it up and cradle it in his arms before anything escapes and smashes on the icy pavement. ‘Shit, my cocks!’

‘I’m telling you, you’re _not fucking funny_. That was, like, the gayest thing I’ve ever seen,’ Mickey says with a smile, shaking his head.

Before Ian can open his mouth in retort, Mandy’s quick to raise a finger. ‘That was _not_ an invitation to tell my brother what you’ve done that was obviously gayer than that, okay? I fucking hear it enough, the walls are fucking thin.’

‘Ay, I’ve had to put up with you bangin’ dudes for fuckin’ years, you don’t get to start doling out censorship now that _I’m_ doing it too.’

Mandy huffs out a long breath which forms as a cloud in front of her. ‘Thank fuck we’re nearly there, it’s freezing.’

‘Yeah, also, my arms – _filled_ with cocks, may I add – are starting to ache.’

‘You say another fuckin’ word about your cocks, we’re gonna have some serious issues,’ Mickey gripes, opening the front gate of the Gallagher house and holding it open for the other two.

‘Fine,’ Ian grumbles, trudging up the stairs to knock on the door. Sure, he could have just barged in as usual but his hands are kind of full.

‘Hey!’ Fiona greets, aggressively _Christmas_ music filtering out through the now open door. She goes to pull Ian in for a hug before she spots the bag in his arms. ‘Oh, great, you brought snacks. The kids are gettin’ restless without their chips.’

Ian nibbles on his bottom lip and turns to Mickey for support. The shorter man just raises his eyebrows in response, saying _you’re on your own, fucker_ without words. Shit.

‘Uh, yeah, Fi, about that…’

Fiona elevates an eyebrow and then crosses her arms, automatically anticipating a poor excuse. ‘What? If your food’s not Christmas themed, I don’t give a damn.’

‘More like cock-themed,’ Mandy mutters under her breath. Mickey elbows her but it doesn’t stop her from chuckling quietly. Fiona watches the interaction suspiciously but then sighs.

‘Come inside, it’s fucking cold. Oh, Sheila’s here and you know how hospitable she is so lucky for you we’re pretty much stocked up on food.’ Fiona pats her brother’s back and stands to the side so they can all file in. After she closes the door behind them, she frowns. ‘What’s in the bags, anyway?’

‘Frank’s wet dream,’ Mickey replies as he unwinds his scarf from around his neck.

Fiona peeks inside the plastic bag Mickey’s now holding out for her and lets out a snort. ‘Jesus, Ian, you plannin’ on killing somebody? How much did this all cost?!’

‘Enough…’ Ian replies before grinning.

Fiona rolls her eyes and then ushers them further into the house to the kitchen. To do so they have to struggle through the already dancing bodies belonging to both Gallagher’s and otherwise.

As soon as Ian places his bag on the counter, he pulls out a different bottle to the one Mickey had taken a swig from earlier and throws some back, swirling it around his mouth before swallowing like he’s at some fucking wine tasting get together.

‘Hm, you know _this_ cock tastes a lot better than-‘

Mickey has to kiss him to shut him up.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://erghmickey.tumblr.com)


End file.
